Grotto Gorgeous
by ahlade
Summary: In answer to Firechild's moonlighting challenge. Lex in a fatsuit and a combed angora creation in a cleft Norman design..


Grotto Gorgeous  
  
'Of all the brainless, ill-judged and embarrassing things you have done, Lex, this is definitely the worst. You have reached sublime heights of foolishness.'  
  
But if by this outburst Lionel hoped to elicit the telltale tightening of his son's jaw, the martial gleam in his eye, he was disappointed, for the object of his fury continued to look at 3D projections of his head superimposed with different styles of white beard.  
  
'Hmm.. I am inclined to go for this cleft eggshell silk with the slight waves. One doesn't want the face to look like the product of a doomed experiment involving a tomato, Billy Connolly and an inebriated merino.'  
  
He looked at his father, who was probably sensitive regarding the subject of facial hair, and hoping to alleviate the discomfort levels in the Luthorcorp office, gave him a cherubic smile. (Vintage 1985; when he had first practiced it in front of the mirror, and learnt the precise series of muscular activity required to produce the angelic countenance that allowed him to manipulate people at will.)  
  
'Why dad' said the new Luthorcorp VP Global Operations, Finance, 'one would think you had an aversion to Santa. Yes, yes I am quite decided on the short cleft, the other looks rather like the unkempt chin foliage of that old goat.' he looked at his father's glowering face and continued, 'on the ranch in Montana.'  
  
The elder Luthor had given up towering over Lex's seated figure and had taken to pacing the office, in full battleship mode-- hair flying, coat billowing. (He had taken care to position his pacing below the air conditioning vent)  
  
'Your references are more suited to a pub in Slough than an office in Metropolis.' This was hitting below the belt, for it was on Lionel's insistence that Lex had gone to Eton. 'And I have no opinion on Santa except that it is a brilliant marketing device by Coca Cola, and I certainly do not believe that my son should be dressed in this .this ludicrous costume when he should be formally meeting all my business associates and peers as an important member of the management of Luthorcorp.'  
  
Lex was quite certain that in a few moments the spittle would start flying from his father's mouth, and therefore it was high time to close this discussion. 'How could I bear not to be paraded as the prodigal son, dad? But, I believe that the humane face of Luthorcorp should be shown to the public.and that includes the ability to put on a fat suit and' he smiled fondly at the monitor, ' "a very realistic creation in eggshell white made of the longest fibers of combed angora, in a classic cleft Norman design." If you are not reconciled by the excellent prospect of seeing me all decked out in this beautiful creation, you are hard to please. And all this in addition to the costume, which in deference to your known views on good taste, I've had trimmed with ermine.' With this parting shot Lex went out the office and into the express elevator.  
  
The Smallville contingent arrived in Metropolis late on the day of the big Luthorcorp Christmas do. It included Clark, Chloe, Pete and Lana; all invited as special guests, and expressly told not to back out by the latest VP in the Luthorcorp fold. The limo that had been sent to pick them up drove smoothly away, while the quartet was left stranded on the acres of red carpet that covered the front of Luthorcorp headquarters.  
  
'I say its time to go in and find a safe corner to be uncomfortable in.' said Chloe, who was dressed in a pale yellow sheath dress that matched her hair to perfection.  
  
'I agree.' said Lana, and walked up the imposing stairs, her chin held high, no trace of her discomfort showing in any line of the high-necked jersey dress in dull red that draped her figure in quite alarming ways. The two boys, intensely aware of the red dress and its occupant, followed blindly in the wake of the intrepid ladies.  
  
'Wow! Look at that tree!' was their first articulate reaction to the splendor inside. And indeed the tree was huge, standing tall in the atrium, decked with crystal ornaments perfectly arranged. Liveried waiters wove seamlessly through the laughing and murmuring throng, while a band played a lively air.  
  
'There is mulled wine!' said Chloe and grabbed a waiter who stood impassively while a hoard of teenagers depredated the contents of his tray. 'Ooh! And look canapés-loads of them!'  
  
'I weel get some for mademoiselle' said the waiter waiting, for Clark to clear his way. He scooted to get a tray of canapés as soon as the two square miles of tux covered farm boy had moved aside.  
  
Chloe sipped her wine and giggled up at Clark. 'This isn't so bad is it? '  
  
'I don't know. One of the disadvantages of being tall-I think Lionel spotted me there. And he meant to do murder with the look he sent me.' muttered Clark to his friends.  
  
'Gee! I bow to no man in the appreciation of crab wrapped in pastry,' here Pete swallowed to lend flavor to his words, 'but don't know why I let you talk me into this, Clark.' His words would probably had more impact if his head had not turned with every step that a buxom blonde in green took past their group on her unsteady, giggling way to the champagne fountain.  
  
'As Pete was saying before his tongue fell to the ground,' said Chloe 'where is our friend who invited us here?'  
  
'Lex? I don't know. He must be meeting the president and a few visiting foreign dignitaries about now. heir to the throne and all that. But I'm sure we'll see him presently.'  
  
'They must know how out of place most people feel at this do-they have Cossack dancers in the gardens at the back. Wanna go?' asked Lana, looking at an information leaflet passed to her by a waiter.  
  
'Ooh! Lets. I can see sundry wives and kids of employees who are as clueless as we making towards that door. Come on.' said Pete and he took Clark and Lana by the arm and led them away.  
  
'Look! There's a Santa's grotto. But no kids, at least none of lap sitting age. Wonder if there is a Santa.' said Chloe to herself as she meandered away from her friends and the prospect of Cossack dancers.  
  
The grotto was made of pitted limestone, complete with fountains, cockleshells and ferns, orchids and the warmth of live coals in artistically placed braziers. In the middle of the grotto, the inner sanctum marked by a circle of rocks, was Santa, and before him on a low rock, her Dolce and Gabbana leopard-print rucked up around her so that her tanned limbs and stilettos were displayed to advantage, was a young believer. She seemed to be staring up at Santa entranced by whatever words of wisdom were emanating from that venerable mouth.  
  
Intrigued, Chloe tried to get closer, but was stopped short by a sibilant whisper. 'Wait your turn like everyone else, strumpet!'  
  
She looked around her in the semi-darkness and noted that the way to the inner sanctum was packed with prowling bodies-beautiful socialites in designer dresses, young men in impeccable suits.  
  
Chloe slipped into this queue of the marvelously made up, wondering at this foible of the rich and beautiful-perhaps they gave away vibrators, she thought, looking at the throngs of young and the silicone-rich that made up the queue.  
  
'Oh! I wanted to fix my enhancer, seeing how the light there is yellow, but my Judith Leiber tote only carries the one lipstick and I had to leave the rest of my stuff with my coat!' whispered one girl with red hair that curled artistically over one bare shoulder to her friend.  
  
The friend was busy fixing her lipstick and practicing a pout in her mirror. 'That's why I love this Escada - pretty and roomy.'  
  
Chloe hated to barge into this alien intellectual territory, but she decided to risk the question. 'Umm. Excuse me! But what is happening there?'  
  
The redhead turned and all but turned up her nose, before turning back to her friend-- obviously Chloe was not in the know, and therefore a pariah.  
  
'Its sexy Lexy' said an English voice from behind her. She turned expecting to find Hugh Grant; only it was a much sharper and younger version that met her gaze. And there was no floppy hair in evidence. The young man put his hands in his pocket and looked sympathetically at her.  
  
'He's back you know. from some village in the interior. they have these in America. He had to run a factory of his father's and wouldn't come to party at all. After two years.'he said, indicating the grotto with a flick of his head. 'Populace a bit starved, eh?'  
  
Chloe though it unwise to inform the gentleman that she herself, God save her, was from that blessed village in the interiors.  
  
'You know Lex?' She asked politely.  
  
'Of course I know him-was his fag at school.'  
  
Chloe had been swallowing some mulled wine at this point and it took all her will power to keep the liquid from spraying the impeccable shirtfront of the boy before her.  
  
'Four years behind him at school, then.' the young man sighed and said, 'he came to America and then went into exile. But he's back now. Sybil Middleton says he said he'd take her skiing next weekend.she happened to be the first to realize it was he in the grotto.' The young man thought dark thoughts of Sybil Middleton and then turned back to Chloe, who had finally figured out the difference between her windpipe and esophagus.  
  
'Have you known him long.'  
  
'H- he is a very good friend of a friend. Speaking of which, will you be very kind and hold my place for a bit? I'll send some champagne your way.?' She pleaded with all the power of puppy dog eyes.  
  
'Ok' said Lex's fag, 'I bet that Birchall-Right bitch will have bagged all his dates anyway.just look at her splaying her legs about.trollop!'  
  
Chloe zipped out of the grotto trying to find her friends. After a lot of pushing through obdurate, unyielding flesh, she spotted them. At least, she spotted Clark, and judging by his fixed and decidedly angry attention towards a spot a few meters away, she was certain she would find Lana there, probably being chatted up by another man.  
  
True to her deductions, Lana was talking to a young blond man, who seemed extremely impressed by what he saw, and judging by the number of head flicks that sent her hair in a silky spray of motion, Lana was not completely unaware of the personal charm of her admirer. And Clark was extremely aware of them both.  
  
Urgently Chloe dragged Clark around. 'Come on Clark, you have to see this. I'll get Lana.' She turned and to Clark's great relief, grabbed Lana from under the nose of her newfound friend. The trio made their way to the grotto.  
  
'Hey!' said the young man holding Chloe's place, 'I can keep the place for one person, not three!'  
  
'Don't worry,' soothed Chloe, 'they are not in the queue.' She turned back to Clark 'Have a look at Santa.' They sauntered around the grotto till they could look past the rocks and foliage at the figure inside.  
  
'Is that .in the beard and the fat suit-that's not.the hat with the pom- pom.the wig, and the fat suit?' Clark was going into full panic mode.  
  
Lana, after peering into the brazier lit grotto, nodded her head and pronounced with decision. 'It's Lex. And I am going to stand in that queue.' She walked quickly to grab a place.  
  
'Well, I'd better.I should keep an eye. I'm going too. Did you see that guy you were speaking to earlier, Chloe, all suited and I'm so cool, look I have an English accent. where they come from I have no idea!' And Clark left to join Lana in the queue.  
  
Chloe pondered for a bit and then her face lit up with a smile.'Hey! I'm before you in the queue! And I have a camera in my purse.' The last was said in an undertone.  
  
The end 


End file.
